Morgrym Hammerbolt's page

"You were enough help without me. The fire and Eloais were already ablaze," shrugs the scout.

"Bad luck, bad luck," he mutters at the group.

"So, you saw us approach the camp, but did not challenge us and you saw the camp on fire and did not assist. What kind of guard are you?" growls Morgrym

Tracking feat out, huh. Thanks for the assist my rules gurus. I have checked out people's rolls now and made a couple of Perception checks for Morgyrm and Erizi but no luck and no tracks noticed.

"I have done nothing. Who are you to ask me?" He pays no obvious attention to movement or weapons. "I am Dashki. My job is to watch for gnoll scum in the hills and advise the Mistress."

"Why did you not return to aid with the fire," asks Morgrym. "Truthfully, I understand your hatred of gnolls, but the fire could have been part of an attack. Surely, as a guard you would have rushed back to ascertain the truth of the matter?"

Erizi's eyes take in the skulking stranger noting how he carries his weapon and his stance, just as he learned to do in the fighting pits.

"Why are you sneaking around out here, while your camp is burning" Erizi asks in his usual blunt fashion. "Did you see anything suspicious, while out here, because you sure look suspicious to me". Erizi casually plants his Maul on the ground in front of him leaning on the butt of it's handle.

Morgrym moves slightly to his lft/right (away from the camp) so that he can try to cut off the stranger's escape route if he tries to run. He then gives him a penetrating glare and says, "My friend asked you a question. I suggest you answer."

"Indeed. This is not what I expected," mutters Morgrym as he drops his bucket to the ground and surveys the area for further trouble. "It seems strange that this fire started just as we arrived. I wonder if someone seeks to interfere with our patron?"

The dwarf arranges his bedroll between several large boulders and carefully sets his warhammer nearby in case he should need it suddenly in the night.

"I am Morgrym Hammerbolt, and I greet you all."

"Save your breath for walking," grumbles the stout, dwarf clad in sand-blasted studded leather armour as he shoulders his crossbow. "We have many hours of walking ahead of us and grim work to do when we arrive. Gnolls have infested Kelmarane and no doubt we will be up to our elbows in blood before our business is completed."